


blood is the shadow of Regret

by KeanBlade



Series: Kindling on fire [3]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-01-15 06:08:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 21,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21248687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeanBlade/pseuds/KeanBlade
Summary: Hashirama learned a hard lesson at eleven and it almost cost him his brother. And Butsuma discovered that Tobirama's mind was powerful enough to give him what he needed to bring Fire country and all her clans to their knees. (Zetsu tries something different)





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> Kind of red!verse, but goes AU so early that it might as well not be.
> 
> This started in Kindling and chapters are there as well as here, a lot of the comments there have been supper helpful and also are what makes this verse even happen so those are very important. If you want to go there here is the info:  
I (ch.3), II (ch.4), III (ch.8), IV (ch.13), V (ch.33)

Mito had learned to hate Butsuma Senju. She didn’t hate the Senju as a whole, not really, she didn’t even really hate Hashirama or Tobirama Senju, but she _hated_ Butsuma; how could she not when she remembered the look on her mother’s face when the Uzumaki were forced to bow, not when she remembered her brother’s voice when Mito was taken away to the Senju compound in chains to be a vassal (slave). Life here had done little to reduce her hatred, not when she saw the situation of every clan that fought against them, not when she saw the ache in Inuzuka’s faces as they saw their dogs in choke chains, not when the entirety of Fire Country seemed to have been brought to heal. Even the Uchiha had been chained under seals that locked away all but the thinnest trickle of chakra and seals on their foreheads that had shut off their Sharingan not matter what they saw, all she could be grateful for was that only a handful of Uzumaki had been forced into servitude with her and that there was rather less physical abuse than she would have expected (truthfully they were probably lucky, they were servants and considered lesser- expected to serve at the Senju and their allies’ beck and call- and some were expected to fight for them, but it could be much worse).

* * *

Madara was learning patience. It was… hard for him, but he was smart enough to know that the only way his clan was going to get out of this was by playing the long game and being _careful_ until they knew enough to kill Butsuma and _get the fuck out_, he just had to make Izuna understand that. His little brother_ needed_ to learn to keep his head down and not loose his temper every time someone said something demeaning or he saw Tobirama; losing his temper would only lead to him getting whipped, something Izuna had only _barely_ avoided so far (well, most avoided, he had gotten hit pretty hard but never tied to a whipping post and Madara was counting that as a win) and only because for some reason (Hashirama?) over half the Senju were willing to turn a blind eye to most of the mouthing off and he hadn’t yet said something idiotic without them around. Madara was so _fucking_ lucky that Hashirama was still in some way the boy he had spent so much time with at the river, and so lucky that so many of the Senju seemed willing to listen to the words of the clan Heir; he may have seen very little of the man he had once called friend, but he knew that the body count on the Uchiha when they were defeated was so low only because Hashirama must have convinced his father to keep it that way, he knew that the fact that they weren’t treated worse must be Hashirama’s doing, must be his plan. After all, who else would care what happened to them?

* * *

Hashirama learned regret when he was eleven and his foolishness almost cost him his brother. It was idiotic what he did, turning on Tobirama in anger as soon as the were back at the compound, unable to think past his betrayal and disappointment as he yelled at his brother, “_Why_ did you do that?! Why did you tell Father? Always have to be a ‘good little soldier’ and go running to Father as soon as I have something I care about. Doesn’t matter that I _liked_ spending time with him! That talking to him made me happy, no you _have _to be a good boy and tell on me as soon as you can.” Tobirama had recoiled from him, a look of confusion on his small face “What? I- what are you talking about aniji?” he sounded so _stupidly_ like he didn’t understand and all that Hashirama could think about was that the one person that seemed to understand him was now an enemy. “You know what I’m talking about traitor!” he hissed and Tobirama’s red eyes look almost wet and off balance when he responded “But I- I didn’t tell Father, you- you’ve been meeting with him for _months_, of course I knew who he was, it’s in his chakra and that’s hard to miss, but Father- commanded me and Izuna followed him and I didn’t want you to get hurt by the other Uchiha.”

Hashirama was too shocked to know how to respond to that, and he didn’t even get a chance to; father had still been in earshot, Hashirama _hadn’t checked_ to make sure he was far enough away and Tobirama was too surprised to notice, so Butsuma heard, he heard and his anger was volcanic. One moment he was ahead of them on the path the next he was in front of Tobirama fury on his face as he looked at his youngest, “You _knew?!_ You knew that he was meeting with the Uchiha spawn for _months_ and you didn’t tell me? You lied to me about your range?! You betrayed me?!” spittle flew from his mouth as he shouted and he never gave Tobirama a chance to respond, backhanding the small boy hard enough to throw him sharply to the ground, bouncing off the path as he hit with a tiny breath of pain. And as Hashirama watched his Father, mad with rage, shouted at his (tiny) brother and kicked him once sharply in the side, and Tobirama- Tobirama whimpered only the finest sound as he dragged himself to his feet, staggering slightly as he tried to stand up straight; but there wasn’t surprise on his face, not really. A little startlement, but none of the shock that there should have been, and Hashirama realized abruptly how much time he spent away from his brother, how often had Tobirama been training with Father while Hashirama played with Madara? Why wasn’t Tobirama _surprised_?

Butsuma grabbed his younger son by his white hair and vanished into the main house and Hashirama, frozen with shock (he never _ever_ forgave himself for that), watched and did nothing. He didn’t see his little brother for six months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I write fast and don't edit much- this is a place for me to not have to worry too much about perfection and just enjoy it- so things can be mangled at times. (I've got a wonky brain that can't see symbols as well, so I frequently can't even see mistakes) That's not something that's likely to change any time soon, so if imperfect writing puts you off this probably isn't for you


	2. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> special thanks to coudric, whos fic 'Into these deep waters' I took inspiration from and who let me abscond with the idea for Tobirama's face tattoos. It's an awesome angst ridden story and has me flailing like Madara at the emotions

Mito was waiting, she knew how to do that and she knew that eventually she would have a chance; the Senju heirs may have been utterly terrifying on the battlefield, each of them so cleanly compensating for the others flaws that they were all but unbeatable (how did Butsuma keep them under his control? He may have been powerful but not more than them and yet he was able to bring them to heel), it was that teamwork that had brought down Izuna and Madara for all that shouldn’t have been possible. They _should_ have been too evenly matched for it to work, Izuna and Tobirama a balance and Hashirama and Madara perfect foils and any other matchup would lead to a decisive victory by the older brother and yet…. And yet the Uchiha had been defeated and neither brother had even been that injured in the fight. (It had been a master work of strategy and ruthlessness that took advantage of every ounce of information and power they had, wearing out the Uchiha brothers with what amounted to canon fodder shinobi- the idea of the Ghost they all said- while holding back themselves before engaging, a vicious tactics but one that _worked_ with very few Uchiha fatalities.)

* * *

Madara watched Hashirama move across the courtyard as he did every time he had a chance; if there was a way out if would be through Hashirama, he knew that even if this older version of his friend was so different than the loud bright boy he had know as children. That Hashirama had almost never talked about his last little brother, certainly not about who Tobirama was as a person, for all that he had talked about his other (dead) brothers, going on about what they were like but never really talking about the brother he had left. It had bothered Madara then, a little, but he had assumed it was some sort of thing where he wanted someone to talk to about the little brothers he wasn’t normally allowed to talk about but he had _seen_ how Hashirama had looked at his brother that day as the river, sharp anger and total lack of understanding then. But now? Now it was rare to see one without the other nearby and Hashirama revolved around Tobirama as much as the albino did around him; they stood close and talked softly, they both watched constantly but where Tobirama watched the others (watched the beaten clans) Hashirama watched Butsuma or their strange cold stepmother, always angling himself between his little brother and their father. Always watching each other’s backs here where they should have felt most safe.

* * *

Tobirama was thin and pale and newly eleven when Hashirama saw him next, and he flinched from his brother’s touch without saying a word; in fact he didn’t say a word for days, nodding and shaking his head when addressed and not even a sound of pain slipping past his lips when training got too rough. And Hashirama understood rough training now in a way he hadn’t before, having relied on his mokuton and its nigh-on unbeatable power to keep him from needing to much precision; but that didn’t work when father was bored and turned his need for his sons to be _perfect_ on his oldest for the first time. Now just being able to obliterate a target wasn’t good enough anymore, now he had to destroy it and nothing around it, and then part of it but not the whole thing and then the targets around it but not touch the one in front of him, and so on until Hashirama’s chakra coils _ached_. It was… wareing, and he suddenly understood Tobirama’s quiet and coldness a little better; it wasn’t just natural reserve- though that must have been part of it- it was that father had trained him (slimmer, albino, less chakra, water natured) like this since he was a child and that after a while you got so tired even emotion was too much work. After a while you became so sharp that everything else wore away and you didn’t know how to not cut, and Hashirama could see that now though he had so far avoided it.

He didn’t know all of what had happened to his little brother while Tobirama was gone, but he was even better with his chakra now than he had been, so precise that it almost _hurt_ (and Hashirama knew what it took to be that good now, like he never had before), and even more invested in books and his learning. He did know that Tobirama must not have been allowed to speak very much if at all because the first time he got his brother to respond (not by asking about Tobirama, no amount of pleading had convinced the albino to tell him anything) but by implying that he needed to know something to keep father off his back; Hashirama didn’t remember what it was now, all he remembered was the way Tobirama’s voice had cracked and broken, and rusting with long disuse (it _hurt_). And he did find out what the thin red lines on his little brother's cheeks were- lines he hadn’t had before he left- and it was the most horrific moment of Hashirama’s life when he saw Tobirama fall to the floor convulsing and unable to even scream when three hand signs made the tattoos _burn_ with a bloody sulphureus light.


	3. III

Mito forced herself not to fidget- she hadn’t had trouble with that in years- as she knelt waiting, head demurely tucked down, letting her loosely styed hair hide the way she was watching people move around her (hide her _thinking_); Tobirama walked past her perched on the porch and waved a hand at her without even looking (Mito didn’t let her anger show on her face not even a tightening of her lips) “Come” he said disinterested “you will serve tea.” “Of course Senju-sama” she said demurely as the followed him into the man house, a little surprised to see him unbuckle his armor as he led her through the sprawling house into the wing he and his brother shared. He led her into a spacious warm room with folding doors on two walls that were tucked back to open it onto an engawa and a beautiful private garden covered in water features; a soft clink made her turn back to the Senju, a little startled to see the albino hanging his armor on a stand near the door and his sword on another (confident wasn’t he? Though, she looked at the garden, he probably could be here), “There is someone with the tea at the door” he said evenly; there was no knock but when she opened the door there was a tray in front of it, the servant that must have brought it gone.

* * *

Madara looked at Mito as she brushed out her long hair (he was still shocked that the leaders of so many clans were given leave to live in one longhouse together, surely they were concerned that they would talk? On the other hand it wouldn’t do to have them live with their clans either) the Uzumaki had a thoughtful look on her face and her strokes were slow and easy, “Mito?” he prompted “Tobirama called me to serve tea today” she said mildly; Madara frowned, it was a little demeaning to ask a princess to act as a common servant, but she seemed thoughtful, not angry, “And?” he asked, frowning, this was the first time either of the Senju brothers had asked for anyone specifically as far as he knew. “hmmm, he was speaking with the Sarutobi clan heir,” she dropped her brush and looked him in the eyes “they were talking about trade routes.” Madara stiffened, that might _sound _like nothing but- “About trade with the _Sarutobi_? But that’s…” she smiled, just a little cat curl on her lips “I know. Speaking about trade in front of _me_…. I know Tobirama can’t be so stupid as to think that I won’t use that.” Madara nodded, if there was one thing eveeyoy knew about Tobirama it was that the man was frighteningly intelligent “He did it on purpose.” Madara murmured.

* * *

Hashirama was shaking as he picked his brother up off the floor, stealing glances at the door Father had left through, terrified that he would come back; he cradled Tobirama’s thin (tiny) form to his chest as he ducked back to their wing- he didn’t want anyone to see his brother like this, what if they figured out how to do it as well? what if Father got angry again?-, blowing out a relieved breath when Tobirama whimpered faintly “hold on little brother” he whispered desperately “hold on”. (It was the first he nursed his brother through the aftermath of the cursed seals, but not the last.) Tobirama lived, and two days later Father called him to training as if Tobirama hadn’t been shaking in Hashirama’s bed barely able to move since Father activated the seals; and Tobirama went, both of them forced to bow to the helplessness of their situation and Hashirama once again scraped him off the ground after Father was gone (Father’s attention was turned to Tobirama again- though Hashirama wasn’t allowed to go back to his old freedom- and Hashirama would do _anything _to get Father to leave his little brother alone).

He was just fourteen when Father remarried, the Lady Kagura was a lovely cold faced woman with dark eyes and long pale hair, her skin a warm tan that fit well in the Senju, but she was… strange. There was something about her that was just _wrong_ and Hashirama was positive of this when Tobirama was introduced to her; when his little brother touched one warm colored hand he went white as a sheet, what little color he had fleeing even as he shrunk back from her, snatching back his hand like she had burned him. Father’s eyes were _furious_, the last time Hashirama had seen him look like that- “Leave us” Butsuma snapped and the room emptied of all but the Senju and their new member “You _dare_, you _dare_ disrespect my wife?!” he hissed, Hashirama moved forward, desperate but- the lines on Tobirama's cheeks flared to life for the fourth time that Hashirama had seen and he crumbled. Hashirama forced himself to stay still- he couldn’t interfere that would make it worse- but Father had never gone this far before, never held it so long “Butsuma, it was not so big a thing” the new Lady Senju said apathetically “let him go, I wish to see my new home.” Father snarled but let the jutsu drop, escorting his lady out on his arm as Hashirama tucked his little brother as close as he could get. (Tobirama disappeared again after that, for three months he was gone and when he returned that was a new stripe of red, this one traveling down his chin to end on his breastbone, so very close to his _heart_)


	4. IV

The third time Mito was called to serve tea for Tobirama she was unsurprised to see yet another seemingly minor meeting taking place in the tea room, yet another meeting that looked on the surface like a demeaning place to have a former princess act as a servant and yet gave her information she could never get on her own; and if Tobirama wasn’t totally aware of what he was doing she would eat her slipper. What _was_ surprising was that just as the meeting with the merchant was wrapping up Tobirama’s head tipped and without looking he called to the door (not loudly, the younger Senju heir never played at being anything other than a powerful shinobi even when it made everyone else uncomfortable) “Come in brother, my meeting is done.” The merchant opened his mouth, met the cool red stare and though better of what ever he was going to say, bowing and rushing past the tall, handsome oldest son of Butsuma on his way out. Hashirama smiled, large and sunny and like nothing Mito had never seen, “Little brother! You must stop scaring the civilians before they refuse to trade with us completely!” he said brightly, throwing himself to the floor to sit next to his brother, who was giving him a long-suffering look (they were… so _different_ here, watchful yes, and somehow more hurt even as they relaxed slightly) “Hashirama” said the younger chastising before dismissing her with a wave.

* * *

Madara frowned as he watched over his clansmen training in one of the main courtyards, it wouldn’t do to have the army of conscripts unable to fight after all, and it wasn’t like they could access more than the faintest trickle of chakra anyway; Madara brushed a finger over the seal inked on his forehead with a bitter grimace, the knowledge that the sharingan was locked away behind it sitting bitter on his tongue as it always did. He didn’t forget the cold words of the younger Senju as the brush moved over Madara’s skin _“If you want it off all you have to do is say please”_ _the room was cold and dim, the only light a flickering fire in a corner, besides him Izuna struggled inside the wooden restraints, voice silent from a seal on his throat after the first time he insulted Butsuma. The demon drew back, his face every bit as cold and taunting as his words and Madara **snarled** “The day I beg you for anything is the day I die, freak” he hissed bitterly, anger and fear writhing inside him; _in retrospect he probably shouldn’t have said what he had, but… he had been upset and afraid and Izuna had been _right next to him_ and would have been easy to kill for _his_ words so Madara had tried to hit first, to get them focused on him. Tobirama had seemed unmoved by his words and - a loud yelp pulled Madara out of his thoughts just in time to see a large guard- one of the half of the Amatchi that had sided with the Senju in the war- grab Kagami’s arm, shaking the small boy with an expression that was half anger half glee, Madara lunged forward- he _knew _that man’s reputation and wouldn’t let that happen to Kagami- only to be stopped by an arm around his waist, he snarled, turning on the Hatake that was holding him with fury in his eyes. “Watch” she hissed and he turned back and- a flash of blue white and red and the man crumbled slowly to the ground, Tobirama Senju standing in front of him a slightly displeased look on his face “I did warn him” he said slightly absently before looking around at all of them with a cold look in his eyes “I do not like having to repeat myself.”

* * *

Hashirama never knew what it was to hate until he was held his shivering silent scared brother as close as he could after he returned for the second time, until he learned how to wrap his chakra around Tobirama so the younger boy could stand being in the room with Kagura- though having to do it for too long still left him pale and feverish-, until he saw the way their Father spoke about Tobirama as little better than a pet, until he forced his brother to stop washing his hands over and over and over until they were bloody and raw after Tobirama returned from the labs Father had set up; it infuriated Hashirama to see the way Father used Tobirama’s brilliance against him, forcing his youngest to use his inarguable brilliance to create terrible, _terrible_ weapons to unleash on the other clans. The first to fall to Butsuma with a weapon that Tobirama created were the Yamata no Orochi, proud and faithful and brilliant but small and they refused to bow; Father wiped out half of their clan with a chakra bomb and his army killed over half of what was left, the fact that the whole clan wasn’t wiped out was only because Hashirama told Father that they might make useful lab assistants for Tobirama. It had saved some of them, but not enough and the only consolation was that making another bomb was all but impossible as it had used an heirloom from their stepmother, she had been furious when she found out that he had used it on a clan as small as the Yamata no Orochi and refused to see or speak him for a month; Butsuma used the seal on Tobirama twice in that time and almost killed him the second time when he activated the third mark, that was when Hashirama _knew_ that their Father had created a kill switch on his youngest living son.

Hashirama had slept next to his brother for days, awaking at the slightest chakra fluctuation to pour as much power into Tobirama as he could, the albino had lived but only just and Hashirama could never forget that. The day their stepmother let Father see her again was also the day that Tobirama pulled him aside and told him quietly that their father had been working on a way to give himself a bloodline, (had talked about finding a sharingan and was only dissuaded by Tobirama asking if that meant that he though the Uchiha were more powerful- that was what had led to Father using the third mark) so it was only a matter of time before he had something strong enough that he went after the Uchiha, so they _needed_ to talk about a way to keep the whole clan from being killed; to keep Madara and Izuna from being killed (it was also the first time Hashirama had realized what Madara meant to his little brother, realized that it was Madara’s chakra that Hashirama had felt his brother reach for sometimes when Hashirama couldn’t help enough, he had bee _so _relived to know Tobirama had that. Right up until he realized that their Father would never spare the Uchiha unless they could trick him and Tobirama might lose the safety Madara was to him- Hashirama refused to let his little brother lose anything more). And when they met the Hatake on the battlefield, the two of them had entered the fight early and devastatingly, pinning the clan leader to the ground as Hashirama leaned down to her “_bow,”_ he had whispered “_bow and live another day until you can run free. Bow and hide your teeth in wait or everyone will die”_ she had listened (gods know why, Hashirama had not been very convincing) and the Hatake had lived. And later, when they were better at hiding, at planning, at saving while letting everyone think they were killers, the Uchiha survived as well.


	5. V

Mito had a woman’s pride; deep and true as any fjord, but settled and swift as any fire, overwhelming and swirling as the wind but firm and sure any mountain, she didn’t need tell the world of her strength and like any of her sex she knew the power that came from perfect submission (there was so much to be gained if they thought you would spread your legs at their whim), she knew that bowing and kneeling and holding her tongue and speaking softly would get her farther than any jutsu, and she knew that Tobirama must trust her knowledge (it worried her a little, too see the dark twin of her power in red eyes, she…. liked Tobirama- how could she not after sitting in on meetings almost everyday he was in the compound and watching him through her hair- and it worried her to see that he knew her. He knew that she was playing dead and he himself didn’t seem to be playing). He had to trust that she would play at being a broken spirt, if he didn’t than letting her get away with what she was would be insane, not when it was so clear that _something_ was going on in the Senju main family. It was with that in mind that she sat demurely in front of the sliding doors to the room of small water, she had been called to Tobirama’s presence a while ago and had been waiting ever since; movement made her peek up a bit through her hair just in time to see that tall figure of the clan heir storming down the hall standing at his true height the way he almost never did and with a dark sharp edged look in his face he swept past her without even a look. The doors slid open roughly and she had a chance to see into the dim room where she could almost make out a slim shape on the floor and a dark metallic scent before the door slid shut and hid both brothers again; Mito smiled a little behind her hair, it seemed they were determined to underestimate her and however she might be growing to like them they were still the enemy so she felt no shame at all for stretching chakra- the thin trickle she had- to her ears and to slip past the silencing seals (she had been a sealing master longer than she had been anything else).

Feet moving over the floor and a soft hiss of breath, “Tobi… you can’t keep doing this” Hashirama’s voice was tight with worry (she frowned), a cough “What would you have me do? Things are moving faster now.” The younger Senju’s voice was a shaking ruin (that scent, not- not _blood_ right?) and there was a sharp inhale. “Well, it could be worse, at least it’s mostly clean and physical” Hashirama sounded defeated, something Tobirama must have noticed “We’re not out yet, it can still work. We can still keep our Promise” his voice was gentle with his brother and there was a hitching breath like a sob (….what?) “I **hate** this” the older Senju’s voice was bitter and twisted in on itself, almost hidden under the sound of fabric moving and the soft clink of a jar. “You’re about to hate it more” Tobirama said, sounding tired; Hashirama hummed a little and for a moment there was nothing (tending to wounds?) “What happened?” he asked after a minute and Tobirama’s voice was cold and perfectly calm as he replied “He is starting to wonder what I am doing with Mito. He doesn’t think forcing her to act like a maid is _demeaning_ enough- _ow!” “_Sorry, sorry little brother, I’m sorry-“ “-it’s fine, I like her too. He must have been speaking with Her again to get so angry, She’s not happy with him at the moment.” “_Tobi-!_” “Hush, it’s not that bad. Right now it’s just about Mito, I – I told him I was keeping her untouched for you.” Dead silence, shifting fabric “I’m_ sorry_ brother.” Tobirama’s voice was shaking a little “you know he would never think it of me, not after – well. It was the only way to get his attention off of her and it’s hard enough to keep him away from Madara and Izuna and after the thing with Kagami I can’t – I just – “ the younger Senju sounded like he was going to have a panic attack Mito realized with horror. “Shh, hush little brother, it’s ok, I’ll figure it out, she’s smart, she’ll play along, I’ll take care of her, you need to take care of you.” Tobirama started to protest “_No_ Tobi, you’ve taken on too much, I’ll-“ a sigh “damnit I wish Madara could get a muzzle on his brother. I hate seeing you stick your neck out for the brat like this.” there was no real anger in Hashirama’s voice, just _deep_ exhaustion and an edge of defeat that Mito feared.

* * *

Madara was a smart man for all that his temper and tendency towards flailing hid it sometimes (something he had never bothered to fight too hard; it was useful to be underestimated) and he could see that there was something going on here he didn’t understand. There was the way his clan had been defeated with so few casualties- the way most clans had been once Hashirama and Tobirama started taking the field together and keeping their father off it, before that….-, the way that most in his clan remained unharmed- especially the children who were protected by some nebulous threat that no one talked about-, the way Mito was brought into information gathering sessions disguised or not, the way that Hashirama watched his father and step-mother; so yes, there was something going on here underneath the underneath (the way the Hatake were silently devoted to the Senju brothers). And it _worried _him to not know what was going on, how was he supposed to keep his people safe with so little information? (when did his people start having red hair and gray, when did his people start including Hashirama again? When did he start to wonder about dark red eyes?) (when did he start worrying when he saw that _look_ on a pale face, saw it as the slim figure turned from the crying Kagami and his eyes flicked over to Madara, _when?_) “You’re concerned about something.” Mito’s voice brought him up out of his thoughts and he looked up from the small dark head in his lap (Kagami had been having nightmares again, Izuna thought they were of Tobirama, Madara knew better) raising an eyebrow at her distracted look, “What kept you out so long?” he asked quietly as she moved to the table shoved against the wall next to her bed and began untying her hair.

She hummed thoughtfully, collecting her words as she sometimes did before speaking, Madara waited with the patience servitude was teaching him “Every time I think I have figured out a little of what’s going on I seem to see a new tunnel, it is… frustrating to find myself so constantly reminded not to make assumptions.” He frowned following her hands as she brushed her hair out (he missed wearing his hair loose but it had become very clear after the first days here that that was a bad idea and he wore it in a knot of loose braids at the base of his neck now, however much in annoyed him to have it coming undone all the time) “What happened?” he asked. She sighed and set down her brush to face him, “I… don’t really know. So I’ll tell you what I do know first. Butsuma is getting angry that I’m being treated so well and confronted Tobirama about it so the brothers decided that it would be best to try and convince everyone that I’m sleeping with Hashirama.” Madara jerked, anger slashing through him- _he had thought better!-_ before she waved her hand, nothing but faint confusion on her face “It will be a little annoying to have to deal with the jeering but it’s not like he’s going to try anything. Told me that he expects me to sleep in his rooms every few nights and he would send for me when he needed, I gather he is trusting my ability to put the pieces together and keep my mouth shut about what goes on- or doesn’t- behind closed doors.” Madara pressed his lips together unhappily, but there wasn’t anything to be done and this was better than gaining to much attention from Butsuma (and it fit better with the Hashirama he thought he knew). “What else is there?” he asked, she rubbed her fingers together, looking worried “I… I don’t really know. I _think_ that Butsuma hurt Tobirama, _badly_,” she snorted “whatever happened Tobirama was _badly _wounded and - Madara you _have _to do something about Izuna. Apparently Tobirama is the only thing keeping your brother- and your clan- safe.”

* * *

Hashirama adored his brother’s brilliance and hated it in equal measure, but he hated more the way Tobirama was beginning to agree with him. He had hummed and curled farther around his sobbing brother (dry almost silent sobs though they were) trying to give some comfort “You couldn't do anything” he had whispered, holding tighter. “It’s my _fault_, if I hadn’t-“ “_NO_” Hashirama had snapped and then forced his voice gentler “no Tobi, you didn’t- you did the best you could.” “I gave him the weapon he used to kill the entire clan when he ‘didn’t like the way they looked at him’ how is that not my fault?” Hashirama hadn’t known how to make his brother understand that he could only mislead their stepmother for so long, that it wasn’t his fault that the monster seemed to know far more that it should about how to take something apart and put it together again _wrong_, that it wasn’t Tobirama’s fault when the things their Father forced him to discover in the labs he used to love weren’t his fault (Tobirama might be older now but he was still so _thin_\- still so tiny to Hashirama- and so hurt, how was he supposed to keep father away from what he wanted?). The day the Kurama clan was wiped out with Father’s abomination on a bloodline Tobirama tried to kill himself, shattered by the pressure he was under and the abominable guilt that Hashirama couldn’t seem to lift (Hashirama never forgot what it was like to find his brother- already in pain from Father’s punishment for trying to get in between the clan and him- sobbing in a pool of blood _“I killed them, I killed them, I killed them, I killed them,”_ and then softer and full of despair _“he could never care about a monster_”) and on that Day they made a Promise, a Promise to replace a dream (a shity deal in Hashirama’s mind).


	6. VI

Mito smiled at Hashirama, watching the man flail around the room as he tried to figure out how to not insult her and also discus what needed to happen without actually _talking _about it, Hashirama had no idea how to do subterfuge the way his brother did and Mito thought it was _adorable_. “What need do you have of me Senju-sama?” she asked, unable to resist tormenting him a little; he froze, mouth flapping a little as he stared at her with huge doe eyes (she _must not _coo at him, not matter how cute he was) and visibly searched for words “Uh….” he said blankly. Mito raised an eyebrow, watching him squirm “uh, um, I mean, um” she was torn between stringing him along (he was _cute_, but he was also part of the reason she was here and she was shinobi enough to still want to hurt him for that) and helping him figure out how to make this work without having to talk about it – the way that Tobirama always managed to leave it ambiguous as to whether he was helping them or not. “Do you wish me to serve tea for you as I do for your brother?” she asked sweetly, taking a little joy in poking at him right up until she saw a dark look flash over his face at the mention of his brother “Tobirama has many things on his plate” he said a little stiffly, and then shook himself trying to shake off the stiffness and shooting her a apologetic look “he said that you were pleasant company” aaannnddd then his eyes went _huge_ as he put together what he had implied with the hour of the night. Mito winced a little, feeling a bit bad for making things so hard for him after what she had heard a few days ago “I have never minded serving him” she said more gently, only to frown when he grimaced a little and stiffened; “I do not think I have ever heard anyone says such a thing about my brother” he said, voice raised a little and Mito felt her eyes go big, did someone listen in on the Senju brothers even _here?_

“He is a – stern man” she said softly and Hashirama relaxed a little; Mito eyed him for a minute- he was a handsome man and a good one as far as she could tell- before standing and walking over to him, sinking down in front of him and tucking his hair behind his ear with a faint smile (she wanted to purr at the look on his face). She leaned forward and brushed her lips against his ear, “I don’t mind a little kissing, leave a few marks on my neck and I wont mind” she told him softly, far to quietly for anyone but him to hear; he swallowed hard, pulling back and searching her face for a moment, kind eyes serious until she touched his cheek and his face relaxed in relief. He was gentle and slow as he kissed her, lingering and cautious and so, _so_ careful of her; she sighed and twisted until she could sit in his lap, stroking his hair as they kissed (he was a good man). It was a long time until they drew back and then only when he began to shiver as she wrapped her arms around him, she sighed and coaxed his head into her neck holding him gently as he cried into her shoulder biting the cloth there in an attempt to keep himself silent as he sobbed (how long had it been since he had been able to cry? Or been held in anyway? How long had he had to hold himself together?); it frightened her a little, this was the deep sobbing of a desperate man, of hope long worn down to nothing.

* * *

Madara watched Tobirama carefully, side eyeing him as the Uchiha head chopped wood - he had long since gotten used to the heat of the sun on his skin, and was _deeply_ grateful for the cream that had appeared outside their homes and kept his kin from painfully burning under the to strong sun, which, Madara paused, wiping his forehead as he turned to look at the pale Senju (Tobirama jerked his eyes away almost too slowly, forcing himself to ignore the stunning Uchiha shirtless), the _pale_ Senju, the Senju Madara had never seen with the burns even when skin like that should burn _extremely_ quickly; and what were the chances that there was a way for Tobirama to keep his skin safe and also a cream that the Uchiha were given out of nowhere? He might not have believed it if it weren’t for what Mito had said about Tobirama protecting the clan and what he had seen as he watched ever more closely but as it was he noticed; he noticed the Senju that were quietly doing their best to help all seemed to orbit around the Senju brothers and Tobirama in particular, the way no children were ever hit and anyone that tried showed up later _covered_ in bruising having been used for a sparing partner by the vicious younger Senju, the way the Hatake seemed to watch Tobirama anytime he was in view, tracking him the way a pack does their alpha and while they reacted similarly to Hashirama it wasn’t as pronounced. Add that to the way Tobirama always seemed to be between his clan and his father and Butsuma’s allies and it painted a picture of a man doing his very best to protect the people he could; the only problem was the labs, everyone know that it was Tobirama’s labs that produced the monstrous power that Butsuma wielded (though everyone knew that he almost never wielded it, preferring to send his sons- which was an interesting thing on it’s own) and yet the few men and women that helped in the lab always deferred to Tobirama with clear respect and affection.

Across the courtyard Tobirama shifted, pale hair moving with the breeze and catching Madara’s eyes for a long moment (whatever else Tobirama was he was certainly a stunning man); Madara frowned thoughtfully down at the wood he was cutting, this whole thing was so tangled up and Madara _hated _it, this wasn’t his preferred mode of operation- he had always disliked subterfuge- but then again there was _nothing_ about this that was how he might have wanted. He snorted, stretching his back (Tobirama nearly swallowed his tongue and put his back to the Uchiha) and looking around for Izuna and finding his brother hunkered down next to the water trough staring at the ground with a sulky look on his face; Madara sighed, as good a time as any he supposed, and headed over to the younger Uchiha. “Izuna” he called softly, Izuna’s head snapped up his expression lightening into a please smile “Brother!” he said (softly, thank the fire); Madara smiled despite his frustration, he saw so little of his brother these day with them being housed in different buildings that any chance to speak was something Madara cherished after over six months mostly apart, “How are you?” he asked quietly as he pumped water into the bucket set out for them to drink from. Izuna scowled down at his feet (…why wasn’t he working? And how was he getting away with it?) “I hate this” he muttered; Madara sighed, “I know ‘zuna, but you’ve got to get better at playing along” Izuna’s temper flared, glaring darkly up at Madara “_Why?_” he hissed “Why should I make it any easier for then too treat me like shit?!” Madara lashed out fast than his brother could see, whapping him on the back of the head sharply “_Shut up_, the only reason you’re not dead is because the Senju brothers” (best not to mention Tobirama) “are getting involved on your behalf. But you acting like a _dick_ is putting them at risk” Izuna’s face scrunched in anger and Madara slashed his hand through the air, keeping his voice down only though the knowledge of how bad it would be for Tobirama if they were caught “and it’s not just them Izuna, we’re working on a way to get out of here and you’re putting that at risk. You need to cut it out and keep your head down” Izuna ducked his head with a petulant look but didn’t argue.

* * *

Hashirama shivered, he was nineteen and his brother was curled next to him in the encampment of those sent out to beat the Nara into submission. Honestly he had thought that the pragmatic clan would agree to ally with Butsuma rather than fight and run the risk of the annihilation that had happend to the Hōki family (they were all gone now, the whole family wiped out and both he and Tobirama had played a part in that) but they must have had more pride than he thought; or more optimism. Tomorrow they were going into battle and could only hope that the clan head would bow and live rather than ask their entire clan to die; Hashirama hoped, hoped _desperately_, that they would, he couldn’t bare it if he had to do something like that again and he knew Tobirama- though he bore it better than Hashirama- was wearing down under the pressure. “I think sometimes that he is the only person that can kill us” Hashirama murmured, not having to look to know that Tobirama was listening; the albino hummed “Possibly, though Madara might be able to if our plan doesn’t work. but I think we can get him, all we have to do it go after Izuna after all” Hashirama grimaced, he disliked this idea; using Izuna as Madara’s weak spot to get both to surrender make his skin itch but they had to few options for anything else to work. Hashirama dragged his fingers through his little brother’s hair, scratching at the nape of his neck “It will all be alright” he murmured looking up at the cold cruel moon “it’ll all be alright.” (his brother didn't call him out on the lie)


	7. VII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All chapters of this will be posted here only now, but it still counts as a drabble collection so updates could be sporadic or stop if I run out of plot/time/focus

Mito hid her laughter behind her hand and long sleeve, tucking her amusement away as she watched Madara follow Tobirama’s slow kata with fascinated eyes; she did understand really, he was a _lovely_ man, but it was entirely too entertaining to watch Madara be so transfixed- and it was getting worse, as if after he had started realizing that Tobirama was helping his clan he suddenly became aware of how exotic looking the younger Senju- not that she should really be laughing, after all she was having enough problem of her own keeping her eyes off of the older brother, though at least _she_ could excuse it to knowing that Hashirama was a rather fantastic kisser. Not that she was allowed to show her appreciation anywhere Butsuma could see it, around him or those that would report to him she had to do her best to look subdued and angry; it wouldn’t do for the bastard to know that she was anything other than beat down and broken not matter how she really felt, but for now, in an yard empty but for a few guards she was fairly sure reported to Tobirama and the a few Hatake and Uchiha (there couldn’t have been more than ten people in the dusty yard) with Madara resting near by on his heels in the shade until he was needed to carry Hashirama’s armor again (an insulting but harmless task that Mito had suggested that let him be closer the Senju brothers, Butsuma loved it) she felt safe to look less than broken. Tobirama slipped under his brother’s arm with a slow breath- she had never seen anyone else do this achingly slow kata as a pair so that it was a strange sort of spar- and Hashirama twisted his fingers in his brother’s kimono shirt; the younger Senju made a dissatisfied sound but twisted slowly out of the garment leaving him in a thin white undershirt that clung to every muscle and teased more brilliant red lines. Next to her Madara made a strangled sound under his breath, eyes huge where he watched Tobirama; Mito smirked and leaned over, tapping his chin with her finger ”Close your mouth dear” she murmured “you’ll catch flies” his mouth snapped shut and he short her a mulish look, she giggled behind her sleeve but let him be. (which was good, Hashirama lost a layer next and she almost swallowed her tongue, why had she never watched this before?)

Mito smiled as the brothers drew to a stop, murmuring to each other for a moment before Hashirama trotted over to her and the tea she sat besides (it was a good idea for a task, make her sit in the sun and wait on his pleasure to serve them tea) “Tobira wants to do one more” she glanced past him to were the younger man was stretching (and fought down a smirk at Madara’s glazed eyes) “do- I mean, it’ll be a bit longer” (Mito wanted to laugh at his attempts to be commanding and cruel, but it just… wasn’t funny when she remembered that Tobirama had to do the same and why) Mito nodded serenely and Hashirama trotted back to his brother (mmm, he should wear his hair pulled up more without that heavy robe, it was a _wonderful_ view walking away) talking for a second before both men settled into another set of forms and started moving. For a while she sat in a pleasant daze until there was sudden chill and Tobirama went stiff and sharp edged, the Senju brothers turned to the house just as the door opened and bowed shallowly together “Honored stepmother” Hashirama said lowly, shifting in front of his brother a little as he stood (Tobirama shifted back, in another man Mito would have called it _shrinking_); Lady Kagura with her blank lovely face stared at both of her stepsons “I have need of your help Tobirama” she said (Mito shivered, there was something _wrong_ about the woman) and Hashirama’s eyes went wide “Honored stepmother, surely there’s nothing-“ “I said that I needed Tobirama, I am sure that he has no problem assisting me? If he does I am sure Butsuma will be willing to listen” (Mito was surprised at the heavy handedness of the threat) Hashirama’s jaw went tight and hard but Tobirama stepped around him “I would of course love to help you honored stepmother” he said. She smiled a rotten smile and lifted long hands fingers flicking through threes signs- Hashirama made a tight strangled sound and Tobirama’s eyes went wide with _fear_\- “I am sure you would” she said “join me in the house” and her hands slid into a forth sign as she turned to leave.

* * *

Madara’s entire body twitched as Tobirama made a sharp agonized sound, Hashirama spun to his brother, face white as his brother’s skin, but whatever had happened was already passing; Tobirama leaned into the older Senju for a second before pushing back and standing straight, face hidden by the shadow of his wild hair. Madara hesitated and then stood, picking up a glass of water from next to a tight lipped Mito and walking over to the brothers catching only a snippet of their words as he approached “-I don’t want you to be alone with her-“ “I don’t see how we have any choice, this isn’t the battle to fight Hashi” “-I” Madara cleared his throat and both turned to him (he didn’t like the look of the tightness around Tobirama’s eyes or the faint glassy sheen to his eyes). He held out the water to the younger man wordlessly, red eyes blinked at him for a moment before he reached out (his hand was unsteady, Madara had never seen that before) and took the glass, Madara shifted his hand as he did until their fingers hooked together and squeezed gently, the most he could allow of comfort (the most he was willing to risk when he still knew so little); Tobirama’s movements hitched and he stared at Madara for a long moment before clearing his throat and looking away, Madara slid his fingers away and returned to his spot next to Mito, quite sure that he would do something ill advised if he stayed (he wanted so badly to do something to help, almost anything).

It was several long moments before Tobirama collected his shirt and strode past them into the house without looking at any of them, Hashirama following but stopping at the door to watch his brother vanish inside with tight lips; he turned to them, clearly trying to wipe his face of the worry written on it “You will have to excuse me, I need to- just-“ Mito rose gracefully to her feet and touched his hand where it was hidden with both of their long sleeves “Of course, you must have many things to attend to” she said smoothly and Hashirama sent her a fast grateful glance and nodded before disappearing into the house without another word. Mito and Madara exchanged a dark look but set about cleaning up after the planned afternoon with no farther words, this wasn’t the place to talk and they didn’t get a chance for the rest of the day (neither Senju brother reappeared all day) until they were back in the longhouse that housed them with the heads of the other subjugated clans (Madara missed Izuna, he saw his brother far to little now after they had been split up- no one was foolish enough to leave the Uchiha brothers together in one place to plan shit- into different sleeping areas). Mito pursed her lips and glanced at the clock but she was never called to attend to Hashirama and no other word arrived; it was Madara who broke the tight silence “What do you think that was about?” he asked, Mito dragged her eyes away and met his “I don’t know, but clearly _She_ is as much a threat as the ass” she murmured. Madara nodded, “I’ve never seen either of them react to anyone like that, not ever the ass” “And she hurt Tobirama I think, I don’t know what happened but those hand signs were but- unless they were worried about something?” she asked, Madara shook his head “He was definitely unwell, whatever she did effected him somehow and Hashirama knew it would, he was _not_ happy about Tobirama helping her” “And she threatened them with their father” Mito said quietly “there is so much going on that we just don’t know and I – I hate not knowing.” Madara huffed a mirthless laugh “The mystery of the Senju sons. I just wish it didn’t feel like a murder mystery.”

* * *

Hashirama hated that She had figured out how to partial activate the seals Tobirama wore, oh She didn’t know how to do it all the way but She could- and did- use a partial activation any time She wanted to (which was at least once whenever She saw him though never in the labs, he was to useful there Hashirama bitterly knew) and the threat that Father would teach Her the rest hung over them like a malignant fog; She was… unnatural, and while Father understood what he was doing- to an extent- when he hurt Tobirama and wouldn’t use it so much as to kill or damage a valuable tool She had no such qualms. Hashirama _hated_ when She asked for Tobirama for other reasons though; he looked at his brother, nineteen and clever and brilliant and when he came back from ‘helping’ her he always looked… wrung out, empty and confused and he could never really explain what it was he was supposed to be helping her with. Tobirama stirred a little “She wants the Naka Tablet” he said, voice rough and dry, Hashirama made a confused noise as he moved to get his brother water “She says the Uchiha have it and that it is crucial if everything is going to work” Hashirama froze, “She has a _Plan?!_” he asked horrified (what could that- that- _thing_ want?) Tobirama shrugged listlessly- Hashirama knew he would care about this again tomorrow but for now…- “We are going to move against the Uchiha soon” the younger man said. Hashirama swallowed “We’re ready” he promised “we’ll make it work” “We have to” whispered Tobirama.


	8. VIII

Mito watched the door of Hashirama’s room, waiting kneeling next to a covered dish and trying to ignore the….strangeness of the house; she could feel it now that she was paying attention, it was difficult to sense chakra with the binding seals etched on the leather bands wrapped around her wrists and ankles (she had always been grateful to not wear a collar, none of them did even when that would have made more sense – though the Uchiha had seals painted on their foreheads to bind their eyes) but it was doable and what she could sense was _strange_. The house was surrounded by an odd _barrier_ holding in the seeping chakra that saturated the main house and concentrated in the wing Lady Kagura resided in (it was odd chakra, it felt like damp smooth mushrooms- halfway between slimy and silky- and the way mildewed rot smelled- musty and old- and the way moonbeams tasted- like ozone and ice). Twisted around that chakra- which could only belong to Kagura- was the one Mito associated with Butsuma (mud made from blood and that sucked at her skin and the sticky scent of patchouli gone old and _wrong_) and that one was hardly better, it was so clearly filled with something unnatural and antithetical to nature; so Mito wondered how Tobirama could bare it? If rumor was to be believed he was even more sensitive than her and without binding seals to buffer it must be _awful_ to have to sleep in this house, unless he protected his room somehow; and he might, after all as far as she could tell the barrier that kept the Lord and Lady Senju’s chakra from seeping out of the house was suffused with his chakra and Hashirama’s (she liked their charka, Tobirama’s mix of cool mist on skin/river mint in air/rosehip on tongue refreshing clarifying and Hashirama’s feel of oak bark/scent of hot glass/taste of yarrow) so it had to be the two of them that kept that toxic brew from the rest of the compound.

The door slid open with a soft swish and for a second Mito got a look at Hashirama before he saw her; he looked tired, looked frustrated and angry and helpless and Mito – _oh_ there was nothing Mito wanted more than to stand and go to him, than to wipe the lines from his brow and take his face in her hands until the brilliance returned. _Oh_. that was – that was inconvenient wasn’t it. How cliché to fall in love with the young Lord of the house that had all but enslaved her and forced her clan and an entire country to bow in a matter of years. Hashirama turned and saw her sitting at the table in the low light and his face rose and fell all at once (he was glad to see her, but he was tired of having to pretend to be ok) “Mito, I didn’t ask for you” he said, clearly off balance. Mito smiled, she knew he hadn’t that had been- sort of- the point, "I’m sorry to disturb you at this hour but I though you would want the tea you missed earlier and the cook said you never came to eat” she gestured at the covered dishes next to her and he looked at them blankly before grimacing and looking away “I find that I’m rather lacking in appetite at the moment” he muttered. Mito frowned, this was… she stood with a sharp exhalation and walked over to the Senju and smoothed her hands over his collar and murmured to softly for any listeners to hear without great difficulty “Is your brother alright?” Hashirama went still, “My brother?” he asked stiffly, she leaned back and gave him an unimpressed look. He winced and looked away “Our honored stepmother is… not, a, ah, gentle woman” he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and she raised her eyebrow at him, he dropped his eyes and looked at the floor for a long moment (to the side, ever the gentleman, looking drown directly would have had him looking at Mito’s chest) “He –“ and for a moment Mito thought he was going to tell her, thought that she had got through to him; and then he shifted, walls coming up under her fingers “he will be well as can be expected for a Senju shinobi. Thank you for the tea Mito” she sighed and watched him cross the room, already beyond her reach (for now).

* * *

Madara crouched at the corner of the longhouse, he wasn’t really supposed to be out at this hour, but no one was paying attention and he needed to air (also, the scene from earlier had left him unsettled even now); in the dark the compound was almost nice looking, gilded with silver and onyx and empty of the tense dynamics that so filled it in the day. Movement in the shadow by the door to the main house brought his head up sharply and Madara stilled as there was a flash of white and a shift of uncoordinated movement; a second later Tobirama slipped out of the shadows, moving with shocking stiffness- Madara had never seen him anything but as graceful as his element- stumbling and bracing on a wall for a moment before slipping farther into the open. Madara hesitated, Tobirama was an enemy, had written the seals on their skin to take their most prized possession from them (_“say please”_); except, he _hadn’t _ taken the thing they prized them most had he? The Sharingan wasn’t what Madara valued most, that was his brother- his clan- and as far as he knew Tobirama had done everything in his power to keep them safe and Madara – Madara stood (He couldn’t forget the sound Tobirama had made at his stepmother’s sign) and slipped over to the albino. Tobirama started at stared at him when Madara touched his shoulder, blinking at the Uchiha with huge disoriented eyes; Madara frowned, he couldn’t tell what was going on but… “What’s wrong with you?” he asked, voice harsher than he really meant it and the Senju flinched, pressing himself back and away from Madara (the Uchiha frowned more deeply, that was twice in one day he had seen a man he thought couldn’t feel fear flinch).

“Hey, I don’t – just, are you ok? Where are you trying to go?” he forced his voice to gentle as he asked again and the sharp wariness faded a little, red eyes softening “Out of the compound” he said in a shockingly thin and disoriented voice. Madara grimaced, he was reluctant to question the slim man but – “Should you be leaving the compound in this shape?” Tobirama abruptly bared his teeth and shoved himself upright, visibly forcing his feet under him as he did so; “Unlike you I can go wherever I want” he hissed, Madara felt his teeth go tight but before he could even get really angry the fight drained out of Tobirama again “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, truly, I just…” and he trailed off as Madara _stared _at him, the demon, apologizing, _What?_ Madara looked at the way he was looking at the wall- that way was the fastest direction to the water wasn’t it?- and shoved both lingering anger (already fading after such clear contrition and apology) and shock (flinching, apologizing) out of his mind. “You’re headed to the water right?” Tobirama nodded “Alright, I’ll help you” that at least got him a shocked but grateful glance and slow agreement; Madara smiled a little and tucked under Tobirama’s arm, appreciating the other man’s closeness and comfort on the way down even when he notably flagged. The water was clear and calm when they reached it and Madara could _feel_ some of the wire tight tenseness fade from Tobirama as they approached and the Uchiha let him down to sit on the very edge - all but in the water; Madara looked at him (he wasn’t basking in the pretty picture, _he wasn’t!_ stop _laughing_ Mito!) watching the albino's tenseness ease with the nearness of the water and wondering. “What happened?” he asked softly, Tobirama twitched but didn’t react for a long moment “My honored stepmother is working on a project that is… not going well” he looked at Madara with sharp eyes “she wants clan secrets and _artifacts_” he said sharply and Madara- well, he didn’t really react, he was a better shinobi than that- felt an icy shock down his spine, there was only one truly secret artifact that the Uchiha had (even their texts had been memorized and burned when defeat had become inevitable). The walk back was tense and the last thing Tobirama said to him as he passed the door rang in his ears even after he realized Tobirama had defected questions about his own well-being _“say please”_.

* * *

Hashirama had looked at his proud brother staring him down across the campaign tent; they had been working on this plan for months and Tobirama refused to budge (_“I will not place that seal without a key Hashi, I just won’t”_); Hashirama sighed and let his shoulders sag- they both hated to fight anymore- “Why do you think She wants it?” he asked, they only had so much time when privacy and safety could be assured and they needed to move on to other matters. Tobirama stepped forward and touched his hand on the table in silent apology, “I don’t – She wants three things more than anything; you, Madara, and the tablet. I think the Uchiha changed the protection of the tablet and it became to hard to steal” Hashirama stared at him “Hard enough to steal that She decided it was easier to conquer the _entirety of Fire country instead?!_” he hissed, Tobirama nodded and Hashirama swore sharply. “And when she has what she wants?” he asked, Tobirama shrugged, “Then we hope it takes her long enough to sort it out that we can stop it” “And that we hold out long enough to do that” said Hashirama tiredly, his brother smiled a small hurt smile at him (but it was a smile and that was _something_).


	9. IX

Mito tapped her lips with one long finger nail (it was an advantage of being the ‘mistress’ of the Senju heir, there was no push back to her looking nice and redoing her diamond nail lacquer) looking at the distracted look on Madara’s face “What’s bothering you?” she asked, holding back a sigh; “I told you what Tobirama said, it’s just…” Mito allowed herself one sharp bite at her lip before forcing herself under control, “I know I have said this before, but I _hate _not knowing what’s going on” she hissed. Madara sighed, “What is holding them back? They must trust us at least a little to have said what they have so why not tell us more? What do they think we would do, tell Butsuma information that could help us kill him?” Mito winced and glanced at her seals on floor, glowing steadily, they were alright still “They are afraid of something-“ Madara snorted “That creepy fucking stepmother for one” she glared at him for the interruption but couldn’t argue, after all there was something _wrong_ about the woman; Mito frowned thoughtfully as a thought occurred “What if it is her?” she asked slowly waving a hand as Madara cocked his head at her “You have noticed that there’s something wrong with that woman, well what if there _is_; Butsuma may have given himself that horrific bastardization of a bloodline but he almost never fights himself letting Hashirama and Tobirama fight instead- which goes against his pride I should think- and he didn’t make that bloodline until _after_ he married; even that bomb he used was only used once and rumor has it that it used something of hers.” Madara frowned as well, saying slowly “Tobirama came up with the way to give his father the bloodline” and Mito nodded “Yes, and I don’t doubt that he was a big part of it- he’s far too smart for Butsuma not to take advantage of it- but what if he’s not the origin? What if he was pushed? You know how close they are, if they threatened one of them is would make the other bend” Madara swallowed harshly and nodded slowly.

“That would do it” he whispered, and she knew he was thinking of what he would do- what he had done- if Izuna was threatened “you think she’s the problem?” Mito shrugged “I think she’s one of the biggest wild cards we have and knowing more about her would help. Besides, you said she was the one that was looking for the Uchiha secrets” Madara grimaced, and Mito smiled a little, the fact that the Uchiha had told her about that at all was a show of trust that Mito had never expected and was deeply grateful for even if it was necessary. “What do we do from here then?” he asked quietly and she pursed her lips, thinking; their other plans were going well, Izuna was keeping his head down (thank the gods) and they were getting a feel for who was loyal to Butsuma and who would fight with them when the time came. It was all but impossible to speak for long with the other clan heads even if they lived in the same space, Mito and Madara were only ignored because everyone thought they were either fucking or- now- talking about how they worked under Hashirama; honestly Mito was fairly sure that to anyone not in the know it looked as though Hashirama had both of them in his bed regularly, something she should talk to him about maybe. It would certainly help get Madara in the main house to watch things with her and she could use another pair of eyes (when she brought it up Hashirama’s face spasmed and something dark and sad flashed over it, something resigned as if he knew it was a good idea but also know it was going to hurt – and Mito wondered when his eyes flashed towards his brother bent over a low table writing)

* * *

Madara thought Mito was not only brilliant but _evil_; oh sure it was easier if he was in the main house a little more, even if the look on Butsuma’s face was vile, but he still was only in there for brief moments- especially since Hashirama hadn’t ‘called him to his rooms’ at night yet- and even that was enough to be…difficult. Because Hashirama and Tobirama seemed to spend every second they could together while in the house, as if there was something to protect each other from lurking (it made Mito’s point about the stepmother even more likely, she almost never left the main house) and that was Madara’s problem, Tobirama was almost always around and now that Madara had actually noticed him he couldn’t seem to keep his eyes away; curiosity and fascination a potent brew as he watched elegant hands write in the smooth swooping calligraphy of the nobility. Tobirama hummed softly in reply to something his brother said and flicked his brush at the end of the sentence, opening his mouth to reply and then freezing, “Tobi?” Hashirama asked lowly, but the younger Senju didn’t bother to reply, launching himself up and towards the door in a flying rush, only just snagging his sword off the rack as he went. Hashirama’s eyes went wide but he was up and after his brother almost as fast, Mito and Madara lagging behind a little in their surprise; by the time they reached the front of the house and the yard the problem was already clear, Tobirama was standing facing his father in front of the house next to _Izuna_ and Madara’s brother was on the ground with blood on his back.

Madara didn’t think, darting as fast as he could towards his brother without drawing attention, Mito behind him by a few steps. Tobirama stepped forward gesturing another man slumped against a wall “Would you have me let them disobey my orders Father?” he said, a clear continuation of something Madara hadn’t heard; Butsuma’s face went dark and angry “You ordered them not to hurt the Uchiha?” he asked, fury lining his words. Madara tuned them out, kneeling a little way from his brother and catching dark eyes; Izuna looked shocky and pissed but there was less pain than Madara expected given the scourge on the ground near them- Tobirama must have stopped it quickly then- and he nodded shallowly at Madara. The older Uchiha blew out a relived breath, whatever had happened Tobirama had clearly stopped it before Izuna could get too hurt and- “_You forget your place_” Butsuma’s mad hiss snapped Madara’s eyes up; Tobirama was halfway between Izuna and the house now (trying to get his father’s attention away from Izuna Madara bet) but at Butsuma’s words his steps faltered. It happened fast, Hashirama’s eyes went huge and he stepped forward, Butsuma’s hands came up and formed hand seals (they looked familiar), Hashirama dove for his brother, Tobirama stepped back, faltered, red light bloomed, the graceful back arched so far Madara thought it might snap, Tobirama fell, convulsing, and Hashirama’s chakra flashed hiding himself, his brother and his father behind a wooden wall.

* * *

Hashirama met his brother’s eyes, trying to ignore the screams of dying shinobi as Madara cut through Father’s allies with a wild ferocity (he was defending everything he held dear of course he was uncompromising in his bloodthirst) “Are you sure this will work?” he asked quietly. Tobirama nodded, his face set in the sharp cold line it always was when they weren’t alone together “It’s the best chance we have” he said softly; but still Hashirama hesitated, what if… “you think I would lie to you about this? about _Madara_?” Tobirama’s voice caught and he looked away from Hashirama “do you think I will betray you again brother?” and the older Senju felt his heart twist sharply – he hadn’t, he had had no idea – He took a too fast step forward and cupped his baby brother’s face; twenty and about to go to war against a man he loved and still _so young_. “Do you truly believe I still hold that against you Tobi?” but Tobirama wouldn’t meet his eyes and Hashirama knew, how had he failed his brother so much (again) that Tobirama should believe that Hashirama still held what happened at the river against him? “I never, ever, held that against you, not for longer than that one day. You were right” he murmured, smoothing snowy hair out of his little brother’s face “you were right Tobi, you did everything you could and if Father hadn’t been there – if Father hadn’t been there I certainly would have been killed.” He sighed and dropped his head, heart aching all the more when Tobirama’s hand cupped the back of his head in comfort for a moment before both of them stepped back, coming to a silent agreement; it was time.


	10. X

The entire yard around Mito was frozen in shock as the dust settled around the wall of wood completely hiding the front of the main house and the Senju family (she had…forgotten how frightening Hashirama’s power could be). There was a long moment where nothing happened and then Izuna spoke softly “What- what just happened?” he rasped as he shoved himself up, cradling his left arm to his chest; Madara swore and dove for his brother’s side, hands passing over Izuna as he checked for wounds even as he kept one eye on the mokuton barrier “What did you _do_?” Madara snapped roughly as Izuna flinched when the older Uchiha touched his arm “Ow, stop, shit, it’s just fractured. And my back is alright too, it was - it was just a glancing blow” Izuna grumbled, sending a look at the man slumped at the yard wall. Mito sent another glance at the wood before turning to Izuna “If you’re not bleeding out explain what happened” she snapped and Izuna dropped his eyes in something like shame “I – he was talking about Kagami, saying – saying really messed up shit and I just, I had to do something!” he looked at Madara desperately but the older man looked back implacably “he went for the scourge and grabbed my arm but only got one good hit in before – before Tobirama kicked him into the wall. He hit fucking hard, probably dead. Butsuma saw it, he was _furious _that Tobirama protected me and the Senju, he said that it wasn’t about helping me it was about keeping his orders obeyed, you saw everything else.”

Mito swallowed and sat back on her heels, exchanging a dark look with Madara, “Gods be damned Izuna, I _told_ you to watch what you said” Madara said, Izuna flared up, wincing a bit as he did so “He said-“ Madara snarled “Kagami would have been fine! Words aren’t worth this” he gestured at the wood sharply “just – no, I’m getting you too a healer and then going to try and figure out what this is.” Izuna said nothing as Madara helped him to his feet and both Uchiha vanished out of the yard headed for the healer that worked on the vassals. Mito brushed her hands down her kimono only to jump as the wood dropped down into the ground with a deep rumble, leaving the yard smooth and clear again but for a little turned up earth – all three Senju were gone and the door to the house was shut, something Mito had never seen before.

Mito watched the yard for a long time, hoping to see some movement, to see anyone going in or out or anything but all was still for several hours before Kagura’s servants slipped out and headed away; as if that was some sign the entire compound seemed to breath out and movement resumed, servants headed in and out at regular intervals. Mito sighed, Hashirama wouldn’t be coming out and after what she had seen (Tobirama convulsing for a brief second before he was hidden) she wasn’t surprised; but she couldn’t bring herself to leave him alone with whatever had happened (had happened to his bother, the brother he adored), and it might get her useful information anyway. Mind made up she slipped into the house, heading first to the kitchens and picking up a tray with a verity of food on it; lighting things someone that was…unwell, could eat, as well as tea and nibble things. The cook crooked a worried smile at her and slipped a small dish of blueberries on the tray as well on her way out but said nothing, the entire house was like that, quiet and dim as if everyone was holding their breath and Mito forced her self to carry her head high anyway to shake off the strange feeling, Hashirama needed her and at some point that had started to matter to her. The door to Hashirama’s door was tightly closed and she knocked on the door softly, confused when there was no response or even sound of movement; louder knocking produced nothing more and after several long moments she blew out a sharp breath. Fine. Hashirama didn’t get to do this, she was a seal mater and chakra bound or no she could get past the wards here (they must be Tobirama’s work, strong and labyrinthine Mito wondered- again- what he could have been if he had been able to learn from scrolls from Uzu). It took several moments longer than she had wanted to unpick the wards and scratch out the right counters with her long nails but eventually she created a hole in the wards where the door was, she didn’t want to take it down all the way and leave them vulnerable, and slipped the door open carried the tray in and setting it on the low table of the large room. It took her a minute to find the Senju brothers expecting to see Hashirama’s broad shoulders in the dim room, but he wasn’t standing or sitting, he was slumped on the floor next to the messy bed.

* * *

Madara was so mad he could have breathed fire; he understood where Izuna was coming from, and he certainly understood the Uchiha temper, but for it to come to this was just _infuriating_. He would have been critical of Tobirama’s decision to interfere but what he had heard about the man the albino had killed all indicated that he would have done his very best to get Izuna as close to death as he could and maim him for life (Madara hadn’t missed that one of the tails of the bloody lashes came far to close to Izuna’s eyes) and Madara owed him, owed him so fucking much at this point that Madara was starting to get a bit overwhelmed with it. He sighed and dropped his head, looking at Izuna’s pale hand in his; his brother was alive and whole, a little sleep and time and he would be ok and Madara…Madara just couldn’t stop seeing the line of Tobirama’s spine as he fell (gods let him be all right). “Madara!” the Uchiha’s head snapped up in shock as Mito raced into the room, eyes wide and hair disheveled “Madara, you, I need your help, Hashi – you need to come” she was panting and visibly afraid and Madara lurched to his feet, racing after her across the compound as fast as they could run, Mito only slowing as they reached the main house. She speed through the dark corridors as a fast walk, the entire house unlit even though the sun had long since gone down; “Mito what-?” he asked and she shook her head, lips pressed firmly together and fear took root at the base of Madara’s spine (the flutter of white hair against the blue sky).

The door to Hashirama’s room was cracked open and Mito lead him in with firm steps, she shut the door as his eyes adjusted to the light in the room, it wasn’t bright really but after the dark outside it was an adjustment. As soon as his eyes cleared they landed on the low bed; Tobirama was spread out there, still in the clothes he had worn earlier except his face guard and fur but pale and terrifyingly still, and Hashirama – Hashirama was slumped on the floor, hands curled around his brother’s wrist and head leaning next to the narrow shoulders. “Mito…” he whispered, she shook her head, leading the way to them and kneeling next to Hashirama “I don’t know, something is wrong with Tobirama and Hashirama has almost no chakra left, it’s like he’s draining it all into Tobirama.” Madara’s stomach turned over sickly and he pressed his fingers to Tobirama’s neck, vision going unsteady as his breath hitched when it took a long time to feel a pulse; whatever had happened it was killing Tobirama (shit, no, _no_, Tobirama wasn’t allowed to do that, he _wasn’t_). “NO” he snarled, dropping to sit awkwardly next to the albino’s hip and dragging Tobirama’s wrist away from Hashirama, taking a deep breath and then _shoving_ his chakra out and down into the pale skin in his hands. There was a moment where Madara thought it wouldn’t work, that Tobirama would resist his chakra, but then it sank in like water into sun baked earth, greedy and deep; Madara gasped at the sudden pull, like a current pulling gently on his chakra (soft and cool), but it receded quickly as it had come leaving a strange sense of wistfulness and sorrow.

“Madara?” Mito asked softly and he dragged his eyes away from the pale face; she was kneeling at Hashirama’s side, holding him up and with her finger on his pulse “He just needs chakra?” Madara asked and Mito shrugged helplessly “I think that’s all that Hashirama was doing, but I’m not sure” Madara swore softly, sending another soft pulse of his chakra into the albino (that feedback again, sad and resigned) “Ok, shit, try to get Hashirama to wake up a little, he needs food and some tea if he’s that close to exhaustion, I’ll keep feeding Tobirama chakra and we’ll have to hope Hashirama wakes up soon enough to tell us if there’s something more to be done” Mito nodded and carefully lifted Hashirama’s shoulders, her deceptively slender frame only slightly over burdened by his bulk. Madara turned his attention back to the younger Senju as soon as Hashirama was out of the way and he could shift into a more comfortable position, “Alright” he murmured “what’s going on with you then beautiful” a wash of careful chakra told him little really; there was something wrong with his heart and a subtle wrongness all over him but the worst was the way his chakra was shifting, weak in a way that was just _wrong_ in someone as strong and proud as Tobirama Senju.

* * *

The battlefield was a bloodbath, the shinobi that Hashirama and Tobirama had sent out (as many of Father’s allies as they could send) had been routed and though both Madara and Izuna were clearly flagging the Uchiha had taken comparatively few casualties. The Uchiha brothers looked elated, high on adrenaline and the idea that they had routed so many of the Senju; it was sad, thought Hashirama, that they were celebrating too soon. The Senju brothers stepped out of the trees, gave the Uchiha clan a single look at them and then exploded into action as one powerful unit – they had to be after all the battlefields they had taken together (something that thrilled Hashirama a little, he hated to kill, every time he had to it was a blow to his heart, but if he did then it was a special thrill to fight in sync with his brother), some of which their Father had set them on alone, with no reinforcements as the greatest proof of his power; after all they told him often enough that their power was his and sending them instead of going himself was a greater show then anything else. At first it looked normal- well, like the _old_ normal- Hashirama clashed with Madara and Tobirama made for Izuna, but the Uchiha were tired and the Senju were fresh, the Uchiha may have been fighting for everything they loved but Hashirama had Tobirama’s mind on his side and that was all it took.

They pushed the Uchiha closer together in increments, Hashirama looked up and met Tobirama’s eyes over Madara’s shoulders, a flash of light and a blur of movement, Hashirama had Izuna wrapped in a choke hold of wood and chakra in a second and Tobirama- with the speed of the Hiraishin and sudden change in fighting style- had Madara spun and facing his brother with Tobirama’s blade at his throat. Madara could still have won, he was far too good for something like a blade at his throat to stop even with Tobirama’s speed, but Hashirama’s eyes were dark and his mouth harsh; the threat to Izuna clear. It clawed at his heart to use Madara’s love for his brother against him, to use the thing they talked of as children as a weapon when he had sworn to himself he would never do so but – but if it was that or death for all of them he would do what he must.


	11. XI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, it's been a rough few months but I am trying to get back to writing even if it is slow!  
Also, thank you for the comments! They keep me going even if I don't have the energy to respond right now.

Mito took a deep breath as she moved Hashirama away from the bed and where Madara was bent over the too still Tobirama; she would have to trust that he could care for the albino (and at this point she was sure he would do everything he could, if not to honor all Tobirama had done for them then for the budding affection she saw in his hands as he touched too pale skin) so she needed to focus on the older Senju brother and getting some _answers_ for once. Mito gently set Hashirama down next to the low table and knelt in front of him patting gently at his cheek to try and rouse him, but he remained unresponsive. Mito pursed her lips- how drained _was_ he?- and sent a flash of sharp chakra though her hands to shock him into wakefulness; Hashirama jerked and moaned softly twitching as the dark eyes slipped open slightly though they remained unfocused. “Mito?” he rasped blankly and the Uzumaki relaxed a little, “Hashi, wake up pet, you need to eat something” she murmured softly; Hashirama flailed a bit panic on his face “_Tobi-_“ he gasped, “It’s ok, Madara has him. He just needs chakra right?” He blinked at her blankly before nodding and sagging “Yes. Just – a _lot_ of chakra” Mito bushed a hand over his shoulders, “Then Madara is the best person to help him, but you need to eat something and get your strength back up.”

Hashirama nodded slowly and let himself be helped to sit up better and took to bowl of rice when Mito nudged it into his hand, eating slowly and shakily overwhelmingly exhausted. Mito chanced a glance over her shoulder at where Madara was still bent over Tobirama, the soft glow of chakra filling the air around them as he tended to the hurt young man “Hashirama, what happened?” The older Senju’s movements paused and his shoulders hunched, though he didn’t look back at his brother. “It- it’s nothing” his voice was soft and so, _so_, tired; Mito frowned and murmured on barely a breath of air “Hashirama we have to know, you can’t keep everything secret” Hashirama sent her a tortured glance and finally flicked a look back at his silent brother, eyes closing in pain for a long moment, visibly torn. “Mito…” he whispered as she reached out and gently took his hand “I – I don’t _want_-“ he looked back as his brother and licked his lips “everyone has a weak point, everyone has something that can be leveraged against them.” His eyes begged her to understand but his body had closed off, she would get nothing more from him (it wasn’t enough, but it was more than she had had before at least).

* * *

Madara smoothed his hand through white hair, leaning closer and pressing their foreheads together as he focused on what the chakra he was feeding Tobirama told him; it was strange, strange that he needed so much, after all that Hashirama had poured into him Tobirama should have been sick with chakra _overload_ not barely clinging to life with only the faintest trickle of power so what… It was as if there was a _rent_ in his chakra coils, as if there was a crack from which the chakra that should have circulated in his body drained out as fast as it could be put in him and, well, that would explain the subtle wrongness all over; a prolonged drain like that would strain the whole system and weaken everything to say nothing of whatever was used to make the crack to start with and _that _was what confused Madara. How could something like that have happened? He had never heard of anything like that but was what would make the most sense, it would even explain the heart stress if the worst of the tear was near his heart Tenketsuin point. So what had happened to cause the damage? How did he locate it and how did he _fix_ it? (because Tobirama couldn’t survive like this, it _would_ kill him and that was just unacceptable) Perhaps…. Madara frowned and tipped his head to press his lips to the albino’s chilly brow using the contact to get a more controlled flow of chakra (the breath carried out some of the power of the spirit- chakra at its basest- and words shaped it too intent, that was why it helped to name a jutsu as it was used – to clarify intent).

Madara’s chakra curled through Tobirama’s coils in a soft-smoke-velvet-steam drift, following his intent as the Uchiha let it linger, curing alive and warm through coils in a shifting wash of power. Keeping it moving enough to be alive but thick enough to fill in any cracks would be exhausting until Tobirama awoke and could take over but it was little price to pay if it kept the albino alive (for now, it wasn’t permanent solution, he would need to speak to Mito - he was no chakra theorist and the Senju brothers would probably be little help). With a sigh he drew back, careful to keep a fragment of his attention on Tobirama and the chakra swirling through the albino’s too thin body (fuck but Madara wanted to gather him close and wrap him in Uchiha warm blankets and feed him till his bones were less sharp, but that was a luxury none of them had now, not since- well, not anymore) as he turned to the table and dragged himself to sit with Hashirama and a pensive Mito. “You ok?” he asked Hashirama softly; the older Senju glanced up at him for a second and nodded jerkily. Madara frowned but pulled the food closer startled enough when Hashirama spoke in a raspy voice to spill the bowl of noodles in his hand “The blueberries are for Tobi, he loves them” Madara hesitated and looked at his old friend for a moment but nodded slowly and pushed the bowl away from the tray to make it clear he wasn’t going to eat them. Hashirama nodded again and shoved up, staggering to his brother and collapsing at Tobirama’s side “You should leave, it wouldn’t be good – Mito is my mistress” and the self-disgust was clear on that word “but Madara…”

Mito and Madara glanced at each other, to confused to be offended. Madara gathered the food things onto the tray- all but the blueberries- and Mito hesitated; she frowned as Madara checked his chakra once more in Tobirama, glad it would take no more power to sustain it from a distance than it did now, “Hashirama…” Mito called softly but the tall man just shook his head and didn’t say anything else until they were out the door and Mito was closing it behind them “Mito, Father has always loved to hold a beating heart in his hand, it’s the power he loves most” his voice was tired and blank and when the door slid shut Madara felt an uneasy thrill run through him.

* * *

Hashirama had watched as implacably as he could in the cold dim room as Tobirama stood over the kneeling Uchiha, painting a seal on their foreheads one by one as they were held still and silent by their father’s shinobi. Tobirama’s eyes had been dark and his face shadowed by the time he came to the Uchiha brothers, Izuna wrapped in a wooden embrace and voice silenced and Madara completely unrestrained (for Madara _couldn’t_ be restrained, not if he wasn’t willing to be, the only bonds that would work to keep him captive were the one he placed on himself) except for the burning in his eyes when he look at Hashirama’s brother. “I suppose you must feel so triumphant Senju” Madara hissed but Tobirama just looked at him with cool eyes and reached out long fingers- how was it that Hashirama was the only one to see the faint tremor? The shine of wetness over red?- to paint to seal on Madara’s forehead; the Uchiha quivered with fury but held still as Tobirama’s fingers moved. The stillness and compliance only lasted until Tobirama spoke “If you want it off all you have to do is say please” and then Madara snarled as Izuna struggled “The day I beg you for anything is the day I die, _freak_” the Uchiha hissed bitterly but Tobirama hadn’t even acknowledge his words and Hashirama – Hashirama was just trying to think about how he was going to comfort his brother after _this_.


	12. XII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this gets a bit graphic

Mito’s mind was a roiling cloud as she and Madara made their way back to the longhouse “Do you know what Hashirama was talking about?” Madara asked softly as they slipped in the door and nodded to the half-awake Hatake alpha. The woman raised a pale brow and Mito blinked in surprise when Madara called out softly to her “He’ll be alright. For now.” the proud woman ducked her head in gratitude, but her lips were pressed together and unhappy. Mito sighed and settled herself on her bed and started pulling pins out of her hair “I – yes. I’m not positive, Hashirama is being cagy as always but with what he said and what we already know….the ass and Her have leverage over them. I don’t understand it but…” Madara stared at her “He - he has a way to hurt Tobirama” the Uchiha whispered through bloodless lips and Mito nodded grimly “That seems like the most likely thing, yes. It would be enough to keep them from taking the bit, just like Izuna was for you” Madara’s eyes flashed and he turned away. Mito watched him for a moment, she knew that he must be thinking about the way and speed and precision with which they had leveraged Izuna against him; the way that it had been so perfectly calibrated to be enough and no more, in retrospect there was no way that the Senju brothers would have learned to walk that line so well without extensive experience. It explained _so much_ even as it set something cold and sick in her stomach; if Tobirama’s life was being held over Hashirama’s head it didn’t matter what they did, unless they cut those ties nothing could be changed.

Mito tipped her head back and tugged at her hair sharply, _no_, they could fix this. The Senju brothers weren’t beyond help, after all they had gone to so much effort to help Madara and Mito as much as they could- even if they had been _infuriatingly_ cagy about giving them anything useful flat out- so clearly things could be better Mito and Madara just had to figure it out. A soft pull on her hands startled her out of her thoughts as Madara gently tugged her hands out of her hair and started braiding it for her for bed; Mito huffed a laugh and reached out to do the same for him, the familiar routine smoothing out her thoughts “We can figure this out” she murmured. Madara nodded but his eyes were dark and worried, and she couldn’t find any other words to help him.

* * *

When Madara was called to the lab it was like nothing Madara had seen before, one side devoted to a slab of white stone the same size as the Naka Tablet and a single ornate table covered in carving tools and deep basins that he couldn’t see the contents of the and the other side…the other side looked like a seal master’s workshop if a seal master worked in scrolls made out of human skin still attached to a half flayed cooling corpse. Blood dripped through long channels and tubing suspended in the air ready to poor down on scrupulously clean meditation arrays and neat jars held the contents of a dozen clans bloodline gifts (no matter how much the Uchiha and the Hyuuga fought he had never wanted to see a meticulous dissected Byakugan complete with nerves still attached); it was such a charnel house that Madara couldn’t even feel revulsion in the overload, no wonder the lab workers seemed so blind and numb, there was no other way to survive a place like this. (Gods of fire, what would have it been like for Tobirama to work in this hell?) Madara dragged in a slow breath, unnerved by the lack of scent; the whole room should have smelled like blood and death and yet there was nothing but sterile air and the faint sting of alcohol sterilizers.

Across the room at the table near the slab of white stone Lady Kagura turned with a doll’s smile- lovely and dead- the lower section of her face strangely inanimate even as her eyes glittered as if something silver and small was crawling behind them, trapped (Madara had never seen her this closely). “Madara” she purred, her voice strangely reminiscent of the sound that Madara had last head when he accidently stepped on a dead half decomposed mouse as a child; the same wet squish and brittle crunch “I so glad you have joined me” and the thing was that Madara believed her. It was terrifying. Forcing down his revolting he stepped forward and bent in the closest thing he could to bow, too shallow but he couldn’t force himself to show his neck to this…thing. “I had little choice” he said, after all Tobirama had said there was no point in lying, she would always know anyway. Indeed Kagura’s eyes glittered brighter, silver maggots swimming closer, “Of course you didn’t. But tell me Madara, what do you think of when you look at the moon?” Madara blinked, throw by the non sequitur “I…don’t my lady, think of it I mean” Kagura’s face rippled with fury “You don’t?” she hissed “you don’t think of the moon, mother to all shinobi?” Madara fought not to step back as she slid closer bringing with her the scent of moonlight and rotten oranges (had she always been the wrong? if so how did Butsuma sleep with her so often?). “No, my lady, I can’t say I do” he forced out of a dry throat “But you are a gift from her” she snapped and Madara swallowed again.

“I don’t know-“ “Your _eyes_, fool, your eyes” “-I don’t, I, what?” Madara stuttered out. Kagura recoiled abruptly and examined him closely as she spoke “Have you ever read the Naka Tablet?” Madara swallowed but didn’t answer “You must have, you lead the clan. So you know about the ultimate gift of the Uchiha” Madara couldn’t find the words to answer her, overloaded by the banal horror of the room and it’s contents. Kagura’s lips flattened and she reached out, long fingers coming closer and closer to his eyes and he _couldn’t move_; her fingers grew closer and chakra twisted in him, burning at the back his eyes and the seal on his forehead and – “_Stepmother!_” Tobirama’s sharp voice broke the frozen atmosphere and Madara reeled back. Kagura’s mouth twisted in fury and she spun to look at her stepson “_What?_” she hissed. Tobirama bowed to her and moved farther into the room, “Father is looking for you honored stepmother, I believe that he received a message from the Daimyo” Tobirama said respectfully, Kagura snarled and swept past Madara, her fingers flickering as she walked past the albino and he doubled over with a faint sound. Madara didn’t even think, darting to the Senju’s side as soon as the tails of her ornate kimono vanished from view “Tobirama” he whispered, catching narrow shoulders in his hands and bracing the albino, horrified in a whole new way by the faint shivers wrecking him. “Tobirama-“ “Madara, please, stay away from this place” Tobirama whispered, his white head all but resting on the Uchiha’s shoulder. “Tobirama, I don’t understand” he murmured, shifting to curl a hand around the albino’s hip; but it was too much and Tobirama recoiled, almost falling as he flinched from contact (how often had he been touched when it wasn’t his brother?) “I- She can’t use you yet, but She might get impatient, Madara you have to be _careful_” the Senju said, eyes wild and afraid and Madara – what was he supposed to do? Refuse? “Alright Tobirama, alright” he soothed and Tobirama sagged for a moment before grimacing and spinning out the door, leaving Madara alone surrounded by the blood of all of Fire Country.

* * *

Hashirama had forced himself to watch as Butsuma’s hand lashed out and the writhing nightmare that was his unnatural bloodline followed, rotten tree branches punching through shinobi, mixing the scent of new blood and wet decay in a too sweet banquet. Branches split off of Butsuma’s hand and replicated as they shoved through the dead shinobi, lifting them in a facsimile of reanimation before they were consumed with a wet sound and fell to pieces as they threw themselves forward into the horrified Hyuuga. It was over after that, there was simply no way for the proud clan to fight in the face of that power, that horror; not that that stopped Butsuma, nothing did until had Tobirama forced himself forward to remind their father that Kagura wanted some of them alive for their eyes. Because as always it came down to Tobirama to take the fall, to take the hit and the hurt and the blame (“_demon”_) and Hashirama _hated_ it, hated it so much even though it was the only option (someone had to be the good guy, someone had to be safe and it couldn’t be Tobirama, not after everything). There was only one option, one plan, one promise, they just needed time for Tobirama to finish.


	13. XIII

Mito watched as Hashirama bent over the paper on his desk, the thin pinch to his lips betraying him when he was otherwise pulling off the appearance of normality. “Hashirama” she called firmly “come here” he hesitated but she _knew_ Hashirama and he had little defense against that tone unless a threat to his brother was involved “let me help you before you get a headache”. Hashirama’s hands stilled for a long moment before he set it down carefully and slowly picked himself up, not looking at her as he moved closer and sagged onto the cushion in front of her (Mito could hardly hold in the bright hot thing in her at the fact that he had _come to her_) but relaxing when she swept her hands over his shoulder and gently brushed his long hair forward over his shoulders. Mito hummed softly under her breath as she set about working the tension out of his shoulders with firm fingers, ignoring his wincing and whimpering (honestly she was just glad the see some of his dramatic tendencies resurfacing even if only a little) and pressing into strong muscles and bulky shoulders “You have too much work” she murmured and Hashirama whined a little before responding “Father has ever less interest in managing the affairs of the Senju and our…vassal clans, he would rather see to conquests and the Daimyo” he mumbled. Mito breathed out slowly, that fit; as far as she and Madara could tell Butsuma dealt with the Daimyo’s court and the idea of further conquest, all he wanted was further proof of his power and superiority. Mito had no idea what Lady Kagura did other than spend time in her lab so she must be involved in the weapons and experiments there, but Hashirama was the one that took care of keeping Fire Country functioning and no one starving even with all the land use changes, and Tobirama managed the forces – Senju and vassal both.

It was the brothers that were holding everything together and they had the loyalty of at least half the Senju- mostly the younger half-and their allies, in any other situation there was no way that they couldn’t have already pulled off a coup, so the question was why hadn’t they? The threat to Tobirama was part of it but if Mito assumed that Butsuma was the one holding the key to that then why were the brothers afraid on Kagura (besides her clear _wrongness_)? What else was waiting in the wing that Mito and Madara didn’t know about? Sighing Mito dragged her mind back to the present and Hashirama, leaning forward and draping her arms around his shoulders and resting her cheek against his head. After a long moment Hashirama’s hands rose and curled over hers on his chest, holding tight as his head ducked and his breathing rasped and hitched. Mito stayed there until long after his breathing had eased and her hands were no longer damp, until his head came up a bit and he could speak again “I think some days that nothing will change” he whispered “and then I remember that there is only blood and Kagura for anyone that calls this place home” Mito kept her breathing even only through force of will, hoping that the Senju would go on. And for a moment it seemed he might until there was a…_change_ and something shifted in the room as if the wind had shifted; he went stiff and stood abruptly, shaking her off with less consideration than he had ever shown her before “You may go” he snapped, back turned to her, shut off once again. Mito wanted to _scream_ with frustration but bowed gracefully and forced her voice even as she spoke “As you wish Senju-sama” (she didn’t notice Hashirama’s flinch at her glacial tone, she was already turning away).

* * *

Madara knew distantly that his hands were shaking as he leaned against the side of the longhouse out of sight of the rest of the compound; gods what…what _was_ that woman? What being could create that level of horror and _why_?! (and what did it have to do with the Uchiha eyes and the Naka tablet?) “Madara?” Mito’s voice jolted him out of his fugue and he turned to look at her; “Madara do you know what she could be planning to do with the Sharingan?” she asked, white faced with the truth of the lab. Silently he shook his head “I don’t know” he whispered “I can’t remember off the top of my head from the tablet what she could be talking about, much less something about the _moon_” Mito’s brow creased “Sometimes it feels like every step we take closer we end up farther away” she murmured. Madara sighed and tipped his head back against the wood, hopping beyond hope that saving Madara wouldn’t have cost Tobirama too much and wondering what would happen when Kagura _could_ use him; wondering how long they had until she was ready (how long until they had to try and find a way to protect their people – how long the Senju brothers had).

* * *

Hashirama had looked at his little brother’s shadowed eyes and shaking hands, had wished he could reach out and felt all to impotent at the same time; some days it felt as though they didn’t have to wait for Butsuma to kill Tobi, that the guilt and stress would do it first not matter what Hashirama tried. “She need as many shinobi in the compound as possible for it to work, the array is made with lines of Her chakra She has somehow sunk into the earth but – well, as long as the shinobi are within the outer wall they can be used.” Tobirama’s voice had been mechanical and numb as he recited the information, Hashirama’s younger brother _so close_ to breaking and Hashirama hadn’t been able to find the strength to comfort him. Hadn’t known what to say to make anything better (he never had). (If only he had never gotten to know Mito, if only the Uchiha and the others had remained allies and people to save not people he wanted to _know_, to live with; what a rookie mistake.)


	14. XIV

Mito staggered as the ground under her shifted with a shocking roar and creak, almost thrown from her feet as the dirt rolled; eyes wide she braced, looking wildly around for the source of the shaking and seeing nothing other than equally shocked shinobi, chakra suppression cuffs lighting up through the compound as the shinobi tried to call on their chakra to stay on their feet. Staggering again Mito gathered herself and set off for the Senju house at the center, the mostly likely place to find answers; Madara met her halfway, his eyes dark and worried “Mito, there’s chakra – _fuck_, yes those” his shocked exclamation prompted as the ground shuddered again and a throbbing root made of light pushed up through the dirt. “what the hell was that?!” Mito yelped as she caught up with Madara but the Uchiha just shook his head, face grim and worried. The yard before the main house was in pandemonium when they reached it, more of those strange chakra-lit roots cutting through the ground and Kagura and Butsuma standing on the doorstep, triumph on their faces and behind them stepping out of the door were the Senju brothers, faces tired and sure.

* * *

The thing was, Madara thought as everything fell to pieces, he and Mito had made a basic miscalculation; they had assumed that the Senju brothers had some greater plan when the truth was all they had was one desperate gambit. One they had no expectation to survive (fuck that, Madara hadn't gone and gotten his heart set on Tobirama just to let him _die_). Because the couldn’t have an expectation to survive, not when Tobirama looked out over the yard and then made a set of hand signs that had the suppression cuffs stuttering and failing, not when Hashirama’s fingers flicked through shinobi mission language and in an instant Senju turned on Senju, Hatake launched themselves at Sarutobi, a coup underway in barely more than a breath right in front of the Lord and Lady Senju as if they were nothing more than common shinobi. It was pandemonium but there was no missing the way Hashirama met Madara’s eye (Hashirama expected him to take control, to lead the rebellion to completion) and the way Tobirama turned on his stepmother with a feral look on his face: they expected to die, they _knew_ what would happen next. And they didn’t care.

* * *

Hashirama had once believed as a child that peace was a matter of hope, that it could be made from ideals and bought with dreams. Tobirama had always known better, had always known that peace was a matter of grit, that it had to be made from dying champions and the blood of children spilt and unspilt – there was no peace without loss and it was never made for the dying (that those that fought for peace, to make it anew, were already dying with every breath). Hashirama had believed as a child that what he wanted could be his and in that foolish idea he had nearly lost his brother; he knew better now. He knew (_those who fought for peace_) that the only way to win this was to _loose_ and hope in Mito and Madara, hope that they would take the opening Tobirama and Hashirama gave them and make the world anew (_were already dying_)


	15. XV

Tobirama leapt at Kagura with his hands bleeding lightning, summoning blood and power as if it was expendable, and for now it _was_ after all, he wasn’t going to need it anymore after this. Kagura, that rotten vile _thing_ that was parading around in the guise of humanity turned, eyes wide and confused at the sudden turn of events, her hold on the power she was using to open the array under the compound- the array that would give her all the power she could want to create a whole new world under moonlight- faltering, leaving them quiescent; ready but calm. for now (they had almost been too late, Kagura had heard enough to know she needed to move faster, Hashirama and him hadn’t been careful enough no matter how hard they tried and even though she wasn’t ready- didn’t know how to use Madara’s eyes without them in his head- she had had no problems with a test run, a test to see how long power could be stored. So yes, he and Hashirama had run out of time). Kagura’s pretty face creased with fury as she looked at Tobirama but she wasn’t fast enough to evade the hand that punched through her chest (where the heart would be, if she had one) or the second strike that took off her right arm at the bicep; with a scream of rage she twisted, kicking out (as Tobirama had thought then, she was impervious to damage, and could probably – ah. yes. she could grow back her arm. Hopefully Madara would remember and trust and the Amaterasu could do what nothing else could) and throwing the albino back.

He twisted, ducked, kept his focus tight on her (Hashirama would be waiting, still and silent for his opening, Madara….Tobirama couldn’t let himself think about Madara) and prepped the seal hidden in his hand. She darted close (as he had thought, she wanted to kill Tobirama up _close_, wanted to feel him die under her fingers, good) a chakra charged blow to his solar plexus stilling breath (only long exposure kept the bitter slick chakra from disabling him by its sheer _wrongness_) and it was only with the blank determination of _years_ of empty hopes that kept his hand moving to shove the seal into the hole he had made in her chest even as it healed over. Kagura froze, confused (right about now she would feel her chakra cut down, all connection to her root array cut off with only her own chakra to call on) and at that moment Butsuma finished the last sign to activate the seals drawn on Tobirama. He had just enough time to look at his brother (already moving to take the opening, after activating the seals they couldn’t be stopped right away – there was a moment, just long enough, where Butsuma was defenseless and unable to reach for his false-bloodline. Just long enough for Hashirama to do what needed to be done before Kagura got used to the change in her chakra, just long enough) and wish he had time to look at Madara before his world was nothing but _red_.

* * *

Madara watched in horror as Tobirama fell, silent and graceless as a felled bird with red on his cheeks and chest (this must be what Butsuma was using against him, the tear in his chakra, the pain Hashirama feared, the heart he held in his hand). Hashirama leapt forward, not towards his brother but after his father face grim, Kagura staggered backwards, Butsuma’s sick smile fell and his hands tried to raise – failed – Madara ignored it, racing for the fallen albino convulsing limply on the ground (no. please no.) he didn’t make it. Butsuma’s scream cut off in a wet gurgle and he fell with a dull _thump_, Tobirama went completely still head twisted way from Madara, Kagura shrieked and turned on Hashirama who was staggering in exhaustion and didn’t even raise his hands in defense, Madara dropped next to the pale shape.

He never had a chance to do more than brush his fingers over Tobirama’s hand (limp as a dead sparrow and just as fragile) before he was thrown back, caught by Mito as she moved forward, the rebelling shinobi pushing out under her fast orders before she turned to help (it was just enough contact for Madara to shove a portion of his chakra into Tobirama’s body – hoping to recreate the fix he had used last time, not enough to know if it was even worth trying). Mito snarled, a deep angry sound as her chakra chains unspooled and pulled Hashirama out of the way of Kagura’s strike, dropping the exhausted and wounded Senju at her feet; Kagura’s eyes glittered madly and she laughed, high and wild. Madara dragged in a breath and shoved his fear for Tobirama down deep (oh gods. oh gods. oh gods. _please_ no) watching her carefully, they didn’t have long and even from here Madara could tell she had chakra to spare and invulnerability if the reforming arm and unmarked chest was anything to go by (thank gods for the seal blocking the access to the root things, _Tobir_-**no**).

But here was the truth: Madara trusted Tobirama (_dearest, beloved,centerTobi-_**no**) ; he _trusted_ Tobirama and Tobirama would never have asked the Uchiha to go into battle with nothing to save them and if that was true then Tobirama would have given him the tools he needed to save his people and if that was true – _“Say please_” – he had what he needed. Madara took a deep breath and looked Kagura dead in the eyes “Please”. For a moment she faltered, and a sick, greedily triumphant grin overtook her face but as Madara’s eyes slowly began to spin and _red_ bled into the irises the pleasure slid off into a rictus of fury and sour fear. “_Tobirama **lied**_” she hissed and Madara bared his teeth “Tobirama is so. much. **_more_**. then you will ever understand” he said and let the power of his chakra burn out of him, it was time to end this. “Tobirama is dead!” Kagura screamed but Mito just cocked her head “Smells like plants” she muttered and Madara bit down a scream (_Tobir-_**no**) to nod “What’s bad for plants?” she asked rhetorically and raised her hands and chakra, chains spilling out and snapping around the wild eyed _thing_ that had hurt those they loved. Madara smiled bloody and bitter, “_Fire, **Amaterasu**_”. (Kagura screamed, Kagura died, Kagura and the bizarre roots _burned_ as the Uchiha followed Madara’s lead).


	16. XVI

Tobirama felt the chakra first (as he always had since he was young), warm and thick as it moved in his chakra coils (he had felt this before) filling in the gapping cracks in Tobirama’s soul like thick molasses and keeping Tobirama’s thinner swift-water chakra from spilling out – the first time Tobirama hadn’t been plagued by the sense of his chakra, his _soul_, spilling out in years (at first it hadn’t been so bad, the tears healed in between activation of the seals inked on his skin but after a while, like a repeated wound on the skin, it was harder and harder to heal and chakra began seeping out with every breath he took. It had never stopped being terrifying to feel himself, his _soul_, bleeding out). Wrapped in the soothing warmth (how long had it been since he was warm?) Tobirama shoved away all signs of approaching consciousness, he had no intention of returning to waking and a world that held nothing but pain (Hashirama- Hashi was probably dead already, what else did he have?), better to let himself slip away and fade into gentle nothing wrapped in the warmth that must be part of encroaching death.

On the edges of his senses- the senses he had never been able to fully close off no matter how much he wished to- chakra fluctuated (bright seasalt-hotmetal-dampearth and flashing volcanovent-cloves-velvet and under them, under them tiny fading oak-hotglass-yarrow-_Hashi_) striking back at the rottenfruit- flaccidflesh-moonlight of his Honored Stepmother. Good, _good_, this was working, he could feel the familiar static-ozone of the Sharingan burning in the Uchiha signatures; thank all the gods that Madara had remembered, Tobirama had feared he would not or that he might not trust anything Tobirama told him, but somehow he had, he _did_ and the Promise he and Hashirama had made would be fulfilled. Tobirama could go now, could leave and escape the consequences of his actions, the repercussions of being the creator of some of the greatest horrors that had come out of this war. Maybe that was cowardice but he just – he _couldn’t_ go back and be put on trial, could bear to face that anger, couldn’t live with feeling that all jagged edges on his chakra every day. He couldn’t do it. he _couldn’t _no matter how hard the warmth was pulling on him, trying to tether him to the living world (where had the warmth come from?) (a world where he would be accused- rightfully- of perpetrating crimes against humanity, and it wouldn’t matter how hard he had tried to mitigate his father and his Honored Stepmother because in the end what he had helped them make was still an abomination).

* * *

Madara bared his teeth in a feral smile as he watched Kagura burn, swept up in the final destruction of the thing that had subjugated his people and ruined so many others; never again would she hurt anyone else. Never.

“_Madara”_ Mito’s sharp voice jerked him out of his trance, and he jerked to look at her where she was bent over Hashirama – _oh! _oh _no_. Tobirama! Madara launched himself across the courtyard, ignoring the still burning lump of plant matter that had once been the Lady Senju (yuck, seriously, _yuck_) and dropping to his knees at the albino’s side hands fluttering over his thin splintered, frangible, body uselessly. The younger man was completely still and Madara forced himself to focus, reaching out to Tobirama’s torn soul and praying that there was still something there to help, to _save_. For a long breathless moment there was nothing but sluggishly bleeding wounds where only his chakra seeped out and Madara swayed on the spot – no. _no. _he – this _no!_ he wouldn’t loose Tobirama, before he even had a chance to have him in his life. he _Refused_. Madara reached for every bit of chakra he possessed, digging deep in every Tenketsuin point (his eyes ached and blood poured down his cheeks) he would not loose Tobirama, that was simply unacceptable. There was a suspended moment of nothing and then, _and then_ **_Izanagi_.**

_The world twisted, screams and fire, burning, but in front of him Tobirama’s eyes opened, just a tiny bit and Madara **felt** his soul give up, felt him let go, felt him slip away and that, that was not something he would ever allow – it didn’t even make sense, Tobirama had to be alive, he had to. So this must be an illusion (yin chakra-the mind, the imagination) it had too. This must be an illusion of death and if it was than Madara could break it, could make it different (yin chakra). oh. there. That made more sense. A different Tobirama one that wasn’t dead. That made sense. But it wasn’t truly alive either. Not really and that wasn’t right was it? no that was strange so what - Madara was alive so Tobirama must be too (yang chakra-the body, vitality). And then, oh yes, Tobirama was alive and the illusion of death was breaking (yang chakra). That was better wasn’t it? _

Madara’s right eye screamed as power was shoved though it and the Uchiha’s sight went white around the edges (his sight? Why was there – things looked different) from the agony but under his hands Tobirama breathed and the terrible wounds on his chakra coils were reduced, smaller than they had been, no longer fatal, he would _live_.

* * *

Mito swore as she shoved power into Hashirama, snarling down at the broken Senju (she had never though to see someone as strong as the Senju heir so reduced) “Oh no you don’t Fucker, you have to come back and explain things to me, I want a _full_ explanation, none of this cadge bs. And both of the _messes_ are dead now so you can’t use that as an excuse” there was a shiver under her hands and she twisted her chakra into the unfamiliar shapes of healing (thank heavens she had learned some even if she wasn’t good at it); Hashirama was famous for his regeneration, but even now he balanced on the edge, Kagura’s power to great for even him. But Mito wasn’t going to stand for that bullshit, “Wake up Hashirama Senju. You don’t get to get away from me that easily” she glanced over her shoulder at Madara where chakra of a power she had never seen before was distorting the air “and frankly Madara isn’t going to let you brother die, do you want him to face living without you and facing those that will want to see him pay for Butsuma’s horrors alone?” (well neither Mito nor Madara was going to let him face that alone but Hashirama didn’t need to know that) For a moment there was nothing and she held her breath- if _that_ didn’t work she had no idea what to try next- and then Hashirama dragged in a sharp gasping breath, twisting in her lap and coughing blood out in great clots and Mito grinned fiercely; yes, she would have what she wanted.

* * *

Hashirama knew that peace was bought but now he thought that maybe it could be won too, that maybe you had to pay the fee for the weapons you needed (_Tobirama drawing a seal on the Uchiha in a dim room – the cost of their trust_) you had to bleed for the chance to have what you needed to enter the fray (_Tobirama sobbing dryly on the ground over and over again_) and that hurt (_His little brother hitting the ground when their father hit him, tiny and unsurprised_) but in the end if you could get far enough, if you could fight long enough you could _win_ peace. Win it with the price you paid and the trust you earned. Yes those that fought for peace, to make the world anew, were already dying; but that didn’t mean that sometimes, just sometimes, dying things could be born anew.


End file.
